Scarlet Blood Dripping on Holy Ground
by Clocks and Gears
Summary: Rosaline had always been told to never stray from the path. No matters what, don't get off it dark things lurk in the woods. "Head straight to Grandmother's house and whatever you do not turn around and do not go into the woods outside of the path" Her father had repeated over and over. She had been a good girl, until one day she saw a wounded wolf whimpering just outside the path.
1. The Prologue

**This is the prologue of my story. It is a different take on Little Red Riding Hood and it will probably be nothing like the versions you have heard I hope. I do not own Little Red Riding Hood but I do own my ideas and this particular version of it. **

Nights had always been like this. She would come home late, her clothing would be torn all over and always red liquid would be smeared around her lips. At first he had thought it was the red lipstick she always wore, just she accidentally smeared it, but now he knew differently. Now he knew exactly what she was.

"Honey I am home," She drawled as she walked into the house. It was freezing since winter had finally come upon them. The stone house, almost like a small castle, always made the place drop fifty degrees in the winter. Sometimes he felt like they would be better off living outside .Their baby girl had been put to sleep upstairs and the house was calm and quiet without her constant crying and screams, "Sorry I got caught up again on the way back from mom's house. You know how it is with the thieves that sometimes travel those roads." She always travelled every day to bring food for her mother, usually consisting of cheeses, bread, and the wine her mother always loved.

He put on a strained smile so she did not grow suspicious of him, "Of course I do. Your lipstick is smeared again, darling, and your clothing is torn. Did it snag on another tree branch?" He asked his words laced with honey as he stared at his beautiful wife. Her skin was as white as the snow, and her beautiful golden locks were tousled as if she had gotten in a brawl. The red cloak she always wore matched the red on her lips perfectly making her skin seem very pale and cold. This was the usual. At first he had wondered if she had picked up a lover on the streets. There were plenty of men who would die to have a beautiful wife like her. He had thought that perhaps she had felt deprived in their love life now that Rosalina had joined the family. Then he had started to believe her stories about getting caught up. He hated feeling like she was lying to him. But, now things were different, he knew everything about what she truly was. He had done his research through books and he believed she would be a danger to their beautiful daughter. He could not let her hurt her. He would do everything within his power to make sure his baby girl would be safe even if it involved putting his wife to sleep permanently, "You must be hungry I will go and get you some bread and water."

"Thank you dearest," She smiled angelically, pulling out a seat and collapsing in it. She looked exhausted, "You know the regular drill by now. You would think after all these years I would not be so clumsy. I take it you put Rose to bed."

"Yes, you were right about her liking that lullaby. She fell right to sleep when I sang it to her," The dark haired man cut off a piece of bread, and fetched a pitcher of water, pouring it into a glass. He set the plate down in front of her and the glass before taking a seat across from her. He watched and waited. He knew what her weakness was, what all of her kind's weakness was. _Silver_. As soon as she took even the tiniest of bites the effects would start to take place. It would get into her blood and slowly, but surely she would die.

"Thank you," She responded politely to the food. She immediately grabbed the bread and started to wolf it down. She was starving; her night travels always left her hungry for some more… appropriate means of food. She took a swig of water and opened her mouth to continue before she paused to look at him. "Why are you staring at me like that? Aren't you hungry?"

He shook his head, his blue eyes resting on her, "I am not hungry," He said slowly. Why was it not working? He had placed the silver in the bread, surely she should be choking, or gagging, or _not breathing_ anymore. He examined her and suddenly her eyes nearly popped out of her head. A hand went to her throat and she gagged, her shoulders slacking. She collapsed off the chair and started writhing on the ground. Her mouth opened and she gasped for her pretty blonde locks framing her face.

"I am sorry, it was for your own good," He began, walking over to her and resting on his knees beside her form, "I could not let you hurt Rosy. You could not help it… you might accidentally harm her. I must protect her, as her father."

She choked her words out, "I am her mother," She snarled viciously, her eyes beginning to change color and fur sprouting on her arms. But suddenly it stopped as she was too weak to change. She began to slink away from him on all fours, "You did your research I see. But I am afraid silver won't kill _me_. I promise you this Joseph I will come back and get our daughter. She is my daughter to you know. I will come back for her you just wait."

"No, by now the silver is in your blood. You will never have our daughter. Any seco-."

She howled in laughter, reaching up to grab the handle of the door, "Of course it is. I should be already dead. But it only weakens me Joseph. You see I consumed the flesh of a witch." She turned around giving him one last wolfish grin before disappearing behind the door. The door flapped in the wind, smacking against the fram repeatedly. Snowflakes swirled inside the already cold room and Jonas pulled his jacket tighter to his body. He watched a golden furred wolf run through the snow, leaving tracks behind her as she disappeared into the woods. Somewhere outside the howl of a wolf was brought to Jonas's ears.

_Upstairs a baby started to cry._


	2. An Unpleasant VisitDon't Look Back

___**Here is Chapter One. Little Red Riding Hood does not belong to me, etc. etc.**

_Do not stray from the road. There are horrible things off of the road. As long as you stay on it nothing can harm you. For you see, Rosy, priests and monks used to always travel that path and they blessed it as they walked granting all who walk on it safe passage. If you leave the road anything can get at you, wolves, spirits, and the most horrid creatures. They might kill you. So remember, walk on the road, go straight to your grandmother's house and deliver her the food and blankets, turn straight back, and do not look back. Come right home dear Rosaline. _

She had heard those words so many times. They had been branded into her mind by her father. Sometimes she believed he was just being overprotective. Werewolves and spirits only existed in fairytales, Rosaline knew that. She had always listened to his words for he was her father, and she his daughter. Rosaline just wished with all her heart he would stop treating her like a child. She was sixteen now, she had travelled that path for as long as she could remember and never once did she see something in the woods that surrounded the path that looked dangerous. Yet still she listened.

Rosaline walked down the blessed path, her hands tightly gripping the basket holding the food she had to bring to her grandmother. Her blonde ringlets bounced as she walked and her green eyes scanned the surrounding woods. She had been travelling for awhile and highly suspected that any moment now she would arrive at grandmother's house. Surely enough as her feet carried her further down the road the quaint house that belonged to her grandmother came into view.

Her grandmother was an odd person. If Rosaline believed her father was superstitious her grandmother fit in a whole different category. She was a religious fanatic. Crosses were staked into the ground around her house and little piles of salt surrounded her yard. Some called her insane, and perhaps that was not far from the truth. All the same Rosaline loved her grandmother, quirks and all, even if she was paranoid to a large extent.

Speaking of grandmothers there she was, burning some odd assortment of flowers and waving them around, creating an odd pattern of smoke. She was muttering things under her breath which Rosaline assumed was a prayer.

She approached the wooden house and smiled at her grandmother, "Grandmother, I am back with some more bread that Papa made." The beautiful girl, the picture of her deceased mother, quietly explained.

Her grandmother stopped her ritual and looked up at the girl, "Rosaline, come here and pay respects to your Lord. You do not want to upset him! You might be damned forever just like your mother and aunt were. You don't want that. Quickly my dear, quickly, on your knees. Take of that wretched cloak, red is the color of pain, blood and war. That will only upset him. Quickly, girl, chop, chop, chop!"

Rosaline nodded, dropping down to her knees in the grass. She placed the basket down beside her, nudging it closer to her grandmother. She clasped her hands together and closed her eyes.

_Dear God, why do I have to always catch my grandmother when she is worshipping you to the extreme? Why can't my father send me out at a different time? This is beginning to become routine. If you exist, do you think you could lend me a hand right here? Also I would like to say that my life is very dull. A little adventure would be nice once in awhile, don't you think? Thanks. Yours truly, Rosaline. _

Rosaline opened up one eye, "Oh, yes, grandmother I cannot stay long today. Papa wants me home before nightfall and it already is getting late. It took me longer to g-."

"Hush, child! Can't you see I am in prayer?"

Rosaline sighed, "Yes, grandmother I _know_ I just really need to leave." Rosaline insisted. She frowned when she got no response, "Well, goodbye grandmother. It was really nice to visit. Your food is in the basket as usual, we could not find any spare blankets to bring but Papa promised to have some made by tomorrow afternoon. I am leaving now, goodbye."

"Wait!" Her grandmother suddenly yelled, she stood up on rickety legs and hobbled over towards her, picking up a walking stick on the way. She reached into a pocket in the raggedy dress she wore and pulled out some salt. She dusted it on Rosaline's thin shoulders looking satisfied, "Good. Now you may go."

Rosaline forced an uneasy smile, the corners of her rosy lips turning upwards, "Um, yes, thank you grandmother. I love you, I will see you soon." Rosaline waved goodbye to her grandmother.

"Yes, yes, be careful my dear," Her grandmother cackled in reply, wobbling into her house and slamming the door shut behind her.

Rosaline blamed old age for her grandmother's rude behavior. She was not always that way, not until a month ago at least. Rosaline noted her grandmother forgot the basket so she picked it up and placed it outside the door. She heard her grandmother's voice from inside.

"What are you doing still here? I told you to get! Get, go one, leave and don't come back until your father sends you again!"

Rosaline winced at the words and collected her skirts, running off in the opposite direction back home. It was alright, she really did not mind being yelled at. She was used to it by now. Rosaline walked back onto the path, pulling her red hood up over her head.

As she walked she noted the sun's position in the sky. It was getting late, maybe if she walked quickly she would arrive back home before nightfall. The woods always seemed more looming and dark at night. Even if she did not believe in spirits, or wolves, or anything of that sort she did really hate the dark woods. The trees seemed to howl in the wind and rock, and the shadows were all over. Rosaline shivered at the thought. Not to mention how upset her father would be with her if she showed up home late. The poor man would probably faint!

Rosaline paused, her ears picking up a sound. It was coming from behind her. It almost sounded like something was… _whimpering_. Rosaline took a deep breath. Her father always told her to never turn around and to always, _always_ keep on going.

But whoever, well _whatever_ was behind her was clearly in pain. Rosaline felt guilt gnaw at her and finally she gave in. She slowly turned around. What she saw made her insides feel like mush. She felt sick.

In the woods, just outside of the path was a man. He was a gorgeous man, not much older hen Rosaline herself. He had dark, shaggy hair and beautiful honey colored eyes. But that was not the problem. The problem was he was bent over, quivering his hand on his side. And on his hand was something red and sticky.

_Blood_, Rosaline realized with growing horror. He was staring at her; his eyes seemed to plead for her to help him. They were filled with pain and hurt. Slowly his eyelids drooped and he stared at her through his eyelashes.

Rosaline warily walked up to him, out of the path, and to his side. He dropped down onto her knees beside him, "Oh My God," She murmured, slowly moving his hand off of the room. He looked at her, leaning into her arms for support. Rosaline took the ends of her red riding cloak, inherited from her mother, and pressed the cloth against his bleeding wound in hopes of stopping it. She did not want him to bleed out. She _could_ not let this mysterious man die in a horrid place like this.

"Thank you," He said. His voice sounded raw and raspy, as if it had been overused, "I hope you can learn to forgive me one day."

Rosaline frowned, "What do you mean?" She asked her voice shaky. Perhaps he was not feeling well and spewing nonsense.

"You have done well, I admit I could not have done better myself," A voice came from somewhere behind Rosaline, "Although I really would have thought years of Joseph telling her to stay of the road would have made things more difficult. I suppose a pretty face was enough though. You may go now."

The man pulled himself away from Rosaline and disappeared into the woods. Rosaline's eyes widened at his speed. With a wound like that he should not have been able to move that quickly, if at all.

"Who are you?" She finally managed to ask, her eyes still staring deeper into the woods where the handsome man had disappeared.

Rosaline heard the woman behind her laugh, "Of course, I almost forgot you were only a baby when you last heard the sound of your mother's voice. You probably would not remember it.


End file.
